Title: When Real Life Meets A Fairy Tale: Part The Fourth
Because 'Addendum to the Post Script to the Epilogue' was just too damn long.
Rating: NC17
Characters: Chris, Kurt, Lea, Mr Schue, Karofsky, the boys of ND
Warning: Severe universe bending, RPF
Spoilers: Up to S2, E07 (Furt)
Disclaimer: This fic is entirely the result of my own overactive imagination. I do not claim to know anything about the cast's private lives other than what has been stated in interviews.
Author Notes: This may have been an excuse to watch NBK again…
All thoughts are in italics.
I apologise for any Britishisms – if you point them out to me, I'll correct them (except for spellings, those will remain British, I'm afraid).
And an interesting fact – a standard Qwerty keyboard is designed in such a way that the word 'Karofsky' is a total bitch to type. I've got the point where I just mash at the letters and let AutoCorrect figure it out.
As chapters go, this is awfully long for me, so I'm really hoping that people like it! *crosses fingers*
Lea cornered him on set the next morning, as the cast was leaving the room for a break in their first rehearsal for the Forget You dance. She dragged him into one of the myriad random rooms on set with her eyes sparkling.
"Spill!"
"What do you mean?" Chris asked, hoping to avoid answering for as long as possible. His heart began to beat slightly faster and he glanced nervously over Lea's shoulder towards the door.
Lea tilted her head to the right and looked at him with a 'don't play dumb' look on her face. "Chris, when I arrived at your apartment last night you so obviously had a guy in there! So spill!" She had an encouraging smile on her face as she spoke, half laughing at his unwillingness to go into detail.
"I… um… it was…" Chris's mind frantically stumbled through half-thought-out explanations. "I didn't… I mean, I don't… and things just…"
Lea laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's okay, Chris, if you have a boyfriend. You don't have to tell people every little bit of your personal life. But it would be nice if you told us. We're family, aren't we?" she said with a gentle smile.
Chris just bit his lip. He wanted to tell her. She was one of his closest friends, and he didn't like hiding things from her. But if he did tell her, she would think he was absolutely crazy.
Seeing his consternation, Lea decided to go through things step by step.
"Do you want to tell me?" she asked, looking at him searchingly. "It's okay if you don't want to."
Chris nodded.
"Have you been seeing someone?"
"Sort of. We don't get to decide… not often." Chris's disjointed thoughts came tumbling out of his mouth.
"What do you mean?"
"We don't have a lot of say in when we see each other."
"You mean with filming and things?"
"Sort of… he kinda just turns up."
"Just turns u-" Lea's eyes widened and a horrified expression appeared on her face. "Has someone been forcing you t-"
"No!" Chris exclaimed. "Nothing like that! It's completely mutual. He just can't get here often, and he never knows in advance when he will."
Lea's expression turned to one of concern. "And are you happy with him?"
"I… yes." A smile started to spread across Chris's face as he thought of the time he spent with Kurt. "I get him, you know? And he's… he's there for me, and I'm there for him. And I don't have to worry about being this public figure with him, you know? He just… he likes me for who I am."
Lea's smile was a mix of relief and pure happiness. "I'm so happy for you!" she half-squealed as she grabbed him in a mini bear hug.
"Oof!" was Chris's response. Lea's mini bear hugs are a force to be reckoned with, after all.
As she released him, she looked back up at his face. "Can I meet him?"
"No!"
She looked at him, puzzled at his outburst.
"He can't meet anyone. He's…" Chris fumbled for an explanation. "He's really shy, and you guys are really… erm… effusive."
Lea nodded slowly. "Okay… but-"
Luckily for Chris, Lea was interrupted by the sound of the rest of the cast stampeding back to the rehearsal room. She looked at him with a brief worried glance, patted his arm, and the two went back to dance rehearsals.
Kurt strode into school the next day with new found confidence. Yes, he was a bit apprehensive about the increased amount of bullying of which Chris had told him, but now he truly believed that one day, things would get better. He just had to live through the rough times to make it to the good times. There was also the fact that he was dressed to kill as he and Tina made their way through the corridors of McKinley. With his dark grey sweater train and his truly fantastic bow tie of clockwork awesomeness, he was ready to take on whatever came his way.
Unfortunately, what was coming his way was coming in the form of Dave Karofsky. Kurt didn't notice him until he found himself bouncing off the lockers.
As Tina asked if he was okay, Kurt thought of Chris. He guessed that this was just the start of the new wave of bullying. He thought of how Chris had dealt with it all the way through high school, and then gone on to have it done to him all over again at work. He thought of how Chris had come out stronger, greater, better than all the bullies. One day, that would be him.
"Yeah… fine," he answered.
When they arrived in Glee Kurt took his usual seat beside Mercedes. Puck's violent gesture in Artie's direction wasn't a good omen in terms of who might be joining Karofsky in bullying him, but perhaps Chris was right. Perhaps Puck really did care about the Glee kids. Why else would he stick around now that Quinn was utterly disinterested?
As Mr Schue directed him to the boys' team, Kurt just silently repeated to himself like a mantra, They are your friends. They will stick up for you… They are your friends, they will stick up for you… you had better be right about this, Chris.
Kurt suddenly noticed Puck's new ear piercings as they started to discuss mashup ideas. One in each ear. Since everyone knew that left ear meant straight and right ear meant gay, did both ears mean bisexual? Hm… something for him to Google later.
It was later that same day that Karofsky found him again, shoving him into the locker with all the force of a young bull elephant.
"What is your problem?" Kurt yelled after him. It was better to face these things head on, after all. He wasn't about to let himself be pushed around by the Karofskys of the world.
The large bully seemed to grow as he turned to face Kurt and approached him. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit was all that went through Kurt's mind. Bad idea, run away, run away. Ignoring this, Kurt stood his ground and hoisted into place his dismissive 'Ice Queen' demeanour as Karofsky loomed over him angrily.
"You're talking back to me? You wanna piece of The Fury?"
"The Fury?" Kurt tried to get as much condescension as he could into those two words.
"It's what I named my fist."
What is it with jocks and naming their body parts? Kurt thought as he snapped back. "Well, with that level of creativity you could easily become assistant manager at a rendering plant." If you can't beat them with brawn, baffle them with brains.
"I don't know what that is, but if I find out it's bad, the Fury's gonna find you."
This somewhat unintimidating speech (really, who doesn't know what a rendering plant is?) was made rather more daunting when Karofsky's hands were planted on his chest and Kurt was shoved yet again into the lockers.
Is this what my life is going to be from now on? Being manhandled by brutish idiots because I'm not big enough to stand up to them physically? No, think positive. You will live through it, and you be stronger because of it. You will beat them in the end.
As Kurt was thinking through this motivational speech, Mr Schuester approached him. He'd seen the way Kurt had been looking so uneasily after Karofsky, and it had finally clicked that perhaps something not quite right was happening here.
Once Kurt was settled in his desk chair, Mr Schuester proffered a cup of water across the desk. "Is there anything that I can do?"
You can take a stand. You can make Figgins see what's happening in this school. You can help make this placer safer for everyone who's in it. You can do your job and teach people that bullying is not okay.
Even as he thought it, Kurt knew it was no use. Figgins wouldn't listen to Schue, no matter what he did. The poor guy had enough trouble trying to keep their disintegrating Glee Club going with all of the drama going on. He didn't have the time or the ability to try to try and effect a major policy change at McKinley High. Kurt would have to soldier on alone until he found one of places of which Chris had spoken, a place where people knew that you couldn't hurt people just to satisfy a passing whim.
Still, he couldn't resist the urge to give Mr Schuester a look that blatantly said 'You even have to ask what you could, or should, be doing?" before he responded, "No. This is my hill to climb alone."
"Can I be honest?" Mr Schue asked him.
No, I want you to lie to me, Kurt thought with an internal eye roll.
"I think it's getting to you."
Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes again and say 'You think?'
"Usually this stuff rolls right off your back, but lately you've been belligerent, angry, pushing people away…"
That's because someone finally told me that I didn't deserve all this crap I'm going through. I finally realised that it isn't just 'the way things are' – there are places that are different. I shouldn't have to deal with this stuff. Because I got sick of always being the school punching bag.
"Can I be honest with you?" Kurt turned the question back onto Mr Schuester. "You, like everyone else at this school, are too quick to let homophobia slide." Like everyone else in the town. Hell, like everyone else in this state, it feels like sometimes. "And your lesson plans are boring and repetitive. Boys versus girls? That doesn't challenge any of us."
"You mean because I didn't let you join the girls like you wanted?"
You mean because you didn't let me join the group that I'm not half afraid might decide to beat me up at any moment? You just don't get it, and you never will.
"To answer your question, yes. I'm unhappy. And yes, being the only out gay kid at this school gets me down. But most of all, I'm not challenged in the least here."
As he stalked from the room, Kurt thought, It should not have taken meeting Chris for me to realise this. I guess we all just need someone to be on our side every once in a while.
As the group gathered for the next Glee club meeting, Kurt was greeted with a pleasant surprise in the form of Mr Schuester's new lesson plan – the boys had to sing a traditionally female song, and the girls something a bit more rock-y.
Finally, he's taken on board something I've said. I thought the day would never come! It's only been a year since I wanted to sing Defying Gravity…
Kurt's plans for the boys' mashup ended up covering six drawing boards. He had to pare them down, brutally, to the bare essentials to show the rest of the team. Still, as he stood in front of them, boards prepared, stick in hand, Kurt had to remind himself of Chris's words. They are your friends.
The meeting did not start well. None of the others seemed to grasp that he, with an almost entirely female friendship group, was far and away the best person to organise this number.
Artie's comment about the dress pushed him just that bit too far.
"Who said anything about a gown?"
Way to be a supportive friend, Artie. No wonder Tina got sick of you always putting her down.
Puck joined in, "Dude, why don't you make yourself useful and go put some rat poison in them old folks jello, or visit the Garglers?"
Of course, the Puckish influence. That explains Artie.
"The Warblers," Kurt corrected, thinking of the short paragraph he'd read so many times he knew it by heart.
The Warblers are Dalton Academy's prize-winning acapella show choir. With thrice-weekly practices, it is one of the more intense after-school programmes offered at Dalton, but this doesn't stop it from being the most popular!
Kurt had already Googled the group under the guise of 'competitive research', and had fallen in love with the place.
"Whatever. See what they're up to, and you can wear all the feathers you want. You'll blend right in."
You don't want me here? Fine. I'll go somewhere where I might be appreciated for once.
"Fine," he said curtly, and he stalked once again from the room. He missed the worried look Mike and Finn exchanged, and the way the two (and Sam) turned to Puck afterwards.
"Dude, you didn't have to be such a douche to him," Finn said, annoyed.
"Yeah, the guy's actually got some neat ideas. Better than anything we've come up with," was Sam's contribution.
"Seriously dude, lay off of him." Mike didn't say much, but anyone could see that Mike meant what he said.
"Woah, guys!" Puck put his hands up in front of himself in mock defense. "Why're you all so defensive about Kurt? I wasn't any worse to him than you guys ever were."
"'Cause Karofsky's being getting worse and he kinda needs friends right now," Finn explained.
"Coming from the guy who used to help throw him in dumpsters! Dude, I'm not gonna change who I am just to make Kurt feel better."
"Just go easy on him, will you?" Mike asked.
"Whatever, dudes." Puck stood up and moved to leave. "Big-lips is right, we don't have any better ideas. There's no point carrying on with this 'til Kurt gets back from the Gabblers with some juice. Come on, Artie." With which final remark, he followed in Kurt's footsteps, wheeling the bespectacled boy from the room.
Kurt gazed in awe around the airy atrium. The noise around him was loud, but not harsh or violent in the way such a crowd would have been at McKinley. No-one pushed into him, or even pushed past him. They moved around him like a well-oiled machine.
He picked a reasonably unintimidating-looking guy, with slicked back curly hair, and said, "Excuse me, um…" The boy turned around. Curly haired guy is cute! Wait, no, stick to the plan. "Hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."
The guy offered his hand to shake and introduced himself, "My name's Blaine."
"Kurt."Kurt's immediate thought as he took his hand of Cute boy! Cute boy offering to touch me! was quickly taken over by Shaking hands... that's so civilised… honestly, who shakes hands nowadays?
"So what exactly is going on?" Kurt inquired.
"The Warblers!" Seeing Kurt's puzzled expression Blaine explained. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. It tends to shut the school down for a while."
"So, wait, the Glee club here is kind of cool?" Kurt couldn't wrap his head around the idea.
"The Warblers are like… rock stars." Blaine couldn't see how Kurt didn't get it, but the idea was clearly completely foreign to him. "Come on! I know a short cut."
The world around them seemed to slow down as Blaine took his hand again and led him down the corridor. Kurt couldn't comprehend what was happening – there was a guy holding another guy's hand in a school corridor and no-one was staring. No-one was even noticing it.
Kurt thought suddenly of Chris. Was this what his doppelganger had meant? Kurt knew that there were places where same sex touching was not noticed, but he'd always assumed that this was in big cities, out in the wider world. He'd certainly never thought that that would be the case in a high school anywhere in Ohio.
They burst into a wood panelled room, full of guys chatting away happily as they cleared space for the Warblers to perform. Uniformed guys.
"Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb!"
"Well next time don't forget your jacket, new kid!" Blaine plucked and patted at his collar. "You'll fit right in."
Again with the touching! This is unreal. I've never known any guy other than my dad or Chris who would… not even Mr Schue is comfortable enough to touch me… and he hugs Finn all the time.
"Now if you'll excuse me…" Blaine said, as the Warblers started up their backing harmonies.
He's one of the Warblers! Kurt thought as Blaine blended seamlessly into the group of singing uniformed teens. Wait… he's their lead soloist! And they're singing Katy Perry! How is this even real...
The thought about whether this was even real brought his mind back to Chris. That was a situation he hadn't thought could be real, either, but it had brought him more pleasure than any other relationship he'd had. Kurt grinned at the memory of their time together. Wait, no, this is ridiculous! You're being sung to a cute guy with a great voice (who is your opposition for Sectionals!), and you're thinking about a guy who may or may not be imaginary. Kurt blinked a few times and looked back at his surroundings. He's singing to me… and no-one cares. This is so… nice. It just feels safe here.
The grin reappeared as the song continued. Blaine might not really have been singing it to him, but he was certainly singing it in his general direction.
This was wonderful. This was bliss. This was all he'd ever hoped for in a school. If only there was some way he could get people to be like this at McKinley, then perhaps life would be more than just 'bearable'. Perhaps life would be good, and he wouldn't have to fall through a hole in the universe to actually meet a decent guy.
An unspecified amount of time later, Kurt was to be found sitting at a table with Blaine and two of the other Warblers.
"Latte?" Blaine offered, pushing a cup across the table toward him. "This is Wes and David," he said, gesturing at the two Warblers sitting with them.
"It's very civilised for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying."
Wes seemed to find the very thought of beating someone up amusing, like it was something he'd only ever seen on TV. "We're not going to beat you up."
David chipped in with, "You were such a terrible spy we thought it was sort of… endearing."
I like him.
"Which made me think that spying on us wasn't really the reason you came," Blaine said with a serious expression on his face.
That's one hell of a leap, Sherlock. I don't suppose it occurred to you that I'm just really shit at spying? It's all very well for you sit there with that smug grin on your face – your parents can afford to send you somewhere where they treat you like a decent human being rather than a leper. Do I really have to make my point this plainly?
Kurt realised he would have to go through this step by step. "Can I ask you guys a question? Are you guys all gay?" Because if you aren't, you don't get it. You won't realise what a big thing it is for me to be treated so decently.
Blaine grinned as he answered, "No. I mean, I am, but these guys have girlfriends."
Alright then, fine. No need to laugh about it. It might sound like a jokey stereotype to you but I'm serious here. And also slightly disappointed that David is straight. He thought I was endearing!
David was the next to speak: "This is not a gay school. We just have a zero tolerance harassment policy."
So does McKinley, supposedly.
"Everybody gets treated the same, no matter what they are. It's pretty simple," Wes explained.
So I'm a 'what' to you, not a 'who'? Wait… what? Everyone the same? No matter what? That's…. is that even possible?
Kurt's disbelief that such a place could exist showed on his face, clear as day.
Blaine guessed how he feeling and asked the other guys to give them a moment alone. They left, bidding him goodbye in a friendly manner.
Once they had left, Blaine spoke. "I take it you're having trouble at school."
You have no idea.
"I am the only person out of the closet at my school. And I try to stay strong about it, but… there's this Neanderthal who's made it his mission to make my life a living hell. And nobody seems to notice."
"I know how you feel."
Kurt rolled his eyes. The one sentence that has never made anyone feel better, in the history of anything, ever.
"I got taunted at my old school. And it really… pissed me off." Blaine had paused in the way that well-spoken people do just before they swear. "I even complained about it to the faculty."
You think I haven't?
"And they were sympathetic and all, but you could just tell that nobody really cared."
Welcome to my life. But perhaps… maybe I'm not alone here.
"It was like 'Hey, if you're gay, your life's just gonna be miserable.'"
But it's not. That's what Chris said. Kurt clung on to that thought like a lifeline.
"'Sorry, nothing we can do about it.' So I left. I came here. Simple as that."
So why are you making it sound like that's the worst possible option? Is life so depressing here? Here, where people don't care that you're gay? Here, where people are good to you, where you have male friends who aren't afraid to let you touch them?
"So you have two options. I mean, I'd love to tell you to just come enrol here, but tuition at Dalton's sort of steep, and I know that's not an option for everybody. Or, you can refuse to be the victim. Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt, and you have a chance right now to teach him."
Really? But he wouldn't listen to me, I'm just a punching bag to him. "How?"
"Confront him. Call him out. I ran, Kurt, I didn't stand up, I let bullies chase me away, and it is something that I really, really regret."
So you're saying life isn't better here? You don't think it would be better for me to just escape from all the harassment and hurt? Blaine's advice left Kurt more confused than he was to start with.
Chris was sitting in his trailer, Diet Coke and Blackberry in hand. It was his lunch break during the filming of The Substitute – he had about forty five minutes before he had to go back to splashing around the giant water-tight soundstage.
His perusal of his Twitter feed was interrupted by an incoming call. No number was identified, and the ring tone was unusual. He didn't think it was any of the ones he had assigned to anyone, but the tune sounded familiar. He pressed the green 'answer' button and lifted the phone to his ear.
Kurt was sitting in his car having just pulled into the driveway, pondering Blaine's words, when his phone started to ring. Not any of his usual ringtones, but a synthesised version of the start of "I Know Him So Well". He fumbled for the cell phone and looked at the screen. "Unidentified Number."
Cautiously, he answered it. "Hello?"
"Hello?" Kurt's voice seemed to echo back at him as the caller responded.
"Who's calling?" Kurt asked.
"What do you mean? You called me," the other person replied.
A person who sounded incredibly familiar, Kurt realised as he spoke again, "No, I didn't, you-…. Chris?"
"Yes. Who's thi-…" Realisation hit Chris at approximately the same time. "Kurt?"
"Yes! How… how are you calling me?" Kurt asked.
"I don't know, my phone just started ringing," Chris explained.
"Mine too."
After a few minutes of chatting, establishing timelines, catching on life events, Kurt brought up his discussion with Blaine, wanting to know Chris's opinion.
Chris answered with a careful considered response. "It's not running away, Kurt. Not wanting to live in a place where you aren't safe is not cowardice. I know Blaine means well when he says that, but escaping from a place where people can't act like decent human beings is not running away. If I could have gone somewhere like Dalton, do you think I wouldn't have jumped at the chance?"
"Blaine said that prejudice was just ignorance, that I should stand up to him, educate him."
Chris thought for a moment, then made up his mind. If there was some way for him to stop the kiss from happening, he was going to try do it.
"It's not your job to educate him, Kurt. You're seventeen years old, you're still growing up. You have the right to grow up somewhere where you are safe. There are teachers, and politicians, and adults who should be teaching him. Not you, Kurt. You don't have to put yourself in harm's way just to try and educate an ignoramus like him."
"But Blaine's right. I have a chance right now to teach him. I can tell him that we're not all total perverts, that we're people just like everyone else."
"Sometimes standing up to bullies just antagonises them, Kurt, and you might push him over the edge."
"Like I haven't before? Remember when he beat me up when we were doing Gaga? I can take it. Maybe if I try to get through to him, instead of just snapping at him, he'll actually listen."
"Kurt, please don't do it. I know what he'll do if you do it and it's horrible. I don't want you to have to go through it. It wasn't so bad for me, I was only acting, I know Max; he's not a bad person. Karofsky is, and he acts without compunction."
Kurt was silent for a moment as he considered Chris's words. "This is when it comes to a head, isn't it? The bullying, that scene you had to film? The one that made Rachel… I mean that girl who plays her… so worried about you."
Chris took a deep breath. "Yes."
"Then I've got to do this. Don't you see, Chris? This is how it has to be. My life is mapped out by your writers."
"It doesn't have to be, Kurt! You can change this! Make your life go a different route. Somehow… there must be a way. Why else would we have met up?"
Kurt shook his head, then realised that Chris couldn't see him.
"No. We met up so that we could help each other through the rough times. I'm sure of it. I needed you when my dad… when my dad was sick, and you needed me when you got through filming… filming what's about to happen. I daresay I'll be seeing you again soon." Kurt chuckled humourlessly. "When… when it's all over."
There was a long silence from Chris's end of the line. "You're braver than I am, Kurt. But then, you always have been." He sighed. "You know I'll be here for you, don't you? If you nee-… if you can get here."
"I know. Thank you for… for trying to keep me safe."
"I care about you a lot, Kurt. I don't want you to be hurt."
"I know. I'm grateful for it."
There didn't seem to be much else to say.
After they had bade each other goodbye and ended the call, Kurt and Chris both looked at their screens, and thought exactly the same thing:
Out of area? Boy, I'll say!
Kurt put the thoughts of Chris, Karofsky, and the future out of his mind as he settled down to watch the girls' mash up. He had to admit, they'd worked hard on their costumes, and the effort they'd put in certainly showed. And they did sound amazing
.
He was distracted by a low buzzing in his pocket as his cell phone vibrated. It was a text message from Blaine. A single word: Courage.
That one word made him finally make up his mind. He would have the courage to stand up to Karofsky, to try and educate his thick, pea-brained skull, to face up to his future.
He looked at the text again as he walked through the halls. Courage. That was all he needed. Now he had resolved what he was going to, he was almost eagerly anticipating the next time Karofsky attacked him. Now he felt like he could fight back, in some small way, he wasn't just a victim any more.
He didn't have to wait long. The phone was knocked out of his hand and he went flying into a locker. For once, another pupil actually looked shocked (he thought her name was Caitlyn, she was in his English class or something). But he didn't have time to be grateful for that now. He had a plan.
He yelled after Karofsky's retreating back, "Hey!"
Kurt pelted after him, following the massive teen into the locker room. "I am talking to you!"
"Girls' locker room's next door," the bully said dismissively.
"What is your problem?" Kurt asked angrily.
"Excuse me?"
He's so thick, how can he not get this? Is he just deaf?
"What are you so scared of?" Kurt tried hard to keep his genuine curiosity out of his voice.
"Besides you sneaking in here to peek at my junk?"
"Oh yeah, every straight guy's nightmare, that all us gays are secretly out to molest and convert you. Well, guess what, hamhock? You're not my type."
Kurt didn't see the momentary hurt that flashed across Karofsky's face. Almost like he'd been hoping for a different answer, as he inquired sardonically, "That right?"
"I don't dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and are gonna be bald by the time they're thirty!"
Kurt didn't realise that it was hurt at his words as much as annoyance with his attitude that angered Karofsky.
"Do not push me, Hummel!"
'The Fury' loomed closer to Kurt's face. The only thing that kept Kurt from turning tail and running was the memory that Chris's face had been intact and perfect that last night. A line from The Princess Diaries suddenly flashed into his mind – courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. Well, he, Kurt Hummel, had courage. And he had decided that this was more important than fear.
"You gonna hit me? Do it."
Kurt, with resolve that impressed even himself, managed not to flinch as Karofsky grabbed the open locker door and slammed it shut.
"Don't push me!"
"Hit me 'cause it's not gonna change who I am. You can't punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you!" Kurt was angry now. What gives him the right to be such a total dick? For him to act like it's my fault he has such anger issues?
"Look, get out of my face!"
"You are nothing but a scared little boy who can't handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are!"
Karofsky's right hand flew to Kurt's face, but instead of the expected pain in his jaw, Kurt felt a surprisingly soft, if horribly sweaty, hand take hold of his face. And then Karofsky's lips crashed into his. A slimy tongue worked its way into Kurt's mouth as he stood aghast.
This isn't happening. Please let this not be happening. Kurt couldn't think. His brain had short circuited. Karofsky, Dave Karofsky, Dave 'I'm so macho I'm gonna shove you around just for the hell of it because you're gay and you aren't worth anything better' Karofsky, had just kissed him. Him. A guy.
Kurt had made plenty of snipes about homophobia just being a cover for homosexuality in the past, but he'd never realised that it actually happened, that it could happen to someone he knew. That the jock who tormented him the most was actually the most closeted person he'd ever met.
Only Karofsky's pathetic whimper as he pulled away betrayed the pent up longing he must have felt. All it meant to Kurt was that this huge, hippopotamic lump of a boy had finally released him.
Kurt's fist, which had clenched when he saw Karofsky's hand fly toward him, remained where it was, close to his face as though he might protect himself. But nothing could protect him from what had happened.
The huge jock panted slightly and leaned back in, clearly hoping against hope that Kurt might respond in kind. Kurt shoved him away, horrified, and brought his hand to his lips. He felt utterly violated. But more than that, he felt betrayed. Chris had known what was coming, and he hadn't warned him. Oh, he'd told him not to do it, that it wasn't pleasant, but he'd let Kurt think he was going to be beaten up. He hadn't warned him about this, this feeling of unclean, of disgust, of wrong.
Karofsky punched the locker in frustration and stormed out of the room. He'd clearly, somewhere in his fucked up mind, thought that he might have had a chance with Kurt. Now that Kurt had rejected him so thoroughly, life could only get worse than before.
Kurt fled to the girls' bathroom, one of the only places in the school that he felt safe. He wanted to talk to Chris, to ask why he couldn't have told him what Karofsky was going to do to him. More than that, he wanted to hear his comforting voice, to feel his arms around him. To feel his gentle lips where Karofsky's had been harsh, rough. To be in that world where things like this didn't happen.
But he couldn't. His contact with the young actor was entirely at the whimsy of some higher power. The only person he thought he might be able to trust was Blaine. He'd only known him a few days, but he was the one person in this world who might understand even an iota of what Kurt was going through. Blaine was a distant second place to Chris's first, but a second choice was better than no-one at all.
He sighed, picked up his phone, and dialled.
"Thanks for coming, again." Standing up to someone's always easier when you have backup. Azimio and Karofsky have been using that tactic for years. Why didn't I think to use it earlier?
"Don't worry about it. Let me do the talking."
I hope you know what you're doing. Kurt spotted Karofsky making his way down the stairs. "There he is."
"I got your back." Blaine reassured him before he approached the burly jock. "Excuse me?"
"Hey, ladyboys. This your boyfriend, Kurt?"
Blaine saw the spark of jealousy pass through Karofsky's eyes as he spoke. Kurt, however, missed it.
"Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something."
"I gotta go to class," the bully said, pushing his way past.
"Kurt told me what you did." Blaine's remark stopped Karofsky in his tracks.
He turned to look up at the two boys, "Oh yeah? What's that?"
"You kissed me." Karofsky glanced nervously around, as though afraid someone might have overheard. He also look oddly surprised that Kurt had said it aloud.
Kurt rolled his eyes at Karofsky's reaction. I mean really, what did you expect me to say?
"I don't know what you're talking about." The bigger boy was definitely nervous now.
"It seems like you might be a little confused, and that's totally normal." Way to patronise him, Blaine. That'll get him on our side.
"This is a very hard thing to come to terms with and you should just know that you're not alone."
This isn't working, Blaine. He won't let himself relate to you and me. We're too different, we're not jocks. He can't understand us any more than we understand him.
"Do not mess with me," Karofsky growled as he thundered up the stairs and pinned the uniformed boy to the grating.
"Stop this!" Kurt yelled, using strength he didn't know he had to push the bigger boy away from Blaine. For a moment, Karofsky looked almost ashamed of himself. Like he regretted causing Kurt such anguish. Then he fled, doing his best to not let anyone see his turmoil.
"Well, he's not coming out any time soon."
Go ahead, make jokes. Him not coming out means that he makes my life a living hell for even longer. I'm glad you can find some levity in this because I'm finding it kind of hard to right now.
"What's going on? Why are so upset?"
My first real life kiss was stolen by a Neanderthal who won't even admit that he kissed me, and it looks like he's going to be punishing me for it for the rest of my high school life. Nothing major, you know, the usual. I'm sure you with your stupid chirpy optimism would be just fine but I'm kind of struggling with things right now.
"Because up until yesterday I have never been kissed. Or at least, one that counted." How can you not get this?
"Come on. I'll buy you lunch."
You can't pay your way out of every unpleasant situation, Blaine. Still, Kurt sighed, rose and followed him.
Chris had just slid the latch across on his front door at the end of a hard day's filming when he heard the now familiar flump of Kurt landing in his bathroom. He saw the hollow look to Kurt's face, like someone had stolen yet one more slice of his soul from him.
Chris enveloped the miserable looking boy in his arms, holding him close and safe. He knew better than anyone else alive what a hellish few days Kurt had been through.
For a moment, Kurt just let himself be held, but then that feeling of betrayal came flooding back in full force. He pulled back, pushed Chris sharply away, and glared at him accusingly as he cried, "Why didn't you tell me? You could have warned me!"
A horrible feeling of guilt washed over Chris. Kurt was right, he could have prepared him better for what was coming. But then he would have had to be the one who delivered the news, rather than letting Kurt live in comparatively blissful ignorance.
"I just couldn't. I knew what hell it was going to be and I couldn't make myself tell you something so awful!"
"Why not? Why couldn't you tell me?"
"Because I couldn't be the one to make you feel like I felt when I read that script!"
"I- you- what?"
"I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you! I remember how I felt when I read what was going to happen. Even thought I knew it would be with Max, who such a nice guy, I couldn't help but be scared. And knowing that my first kiss with a guy would be with a guy who was pretending to assault me just made it all the worse. I couldn't make myself be the one to inflict that on you, Kurt, I just couldn't." The note of desperation in Chris's voice was clear.
For the first time, Kurt really saw the effect of all the years of bullying on the man standing before him.
Kurt spoke softly, gently, as he asked, "Why couldn't you do that to me?"
"Because I care about you too much, Kurt! Isn't that obvious?" Chris looked at him with a half exasperated, half pitying look, then sighed. "Come on. Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable than my bathroom."
Chris took Kurt's hand in response to the younger boy's nod and led him out of the en suite into his bedroom. A slight change in pressure as Kurt gently tugged his hand made him change direction towards his bed, rather than his original plan of going through to the living room.
Kurt scrambled onto Chris's bed and sat cross legged in the middle of it, looking expectantly at Chris, who followed his example and mirrored his position on the bed.
"Chris, I need to ask you… is Blaine going to be my boyfriend? You told me that I was going to get one."
Chris sighed before he responded, "I don't know. I honestly don't know. Ryan changes his mind so often that I've given up trying to keep track. Most of the fans seem to think so, but some think it might just be red herring, like Sam was."
"Sam?"
"It got leaked that your new boyfriend's name was Sam, so loads of people jumped on that bandwagon, and then I think Ryan made him straight just to mess with people a bit. You know, do the opposite of what people expect, and so on."
"So it isn't going to be Sam?" Kurt asked with a disappointed look.
"I don't think so, no. Chord was not enthusiastic about the idea." Chris laughed at the memory, though it had hurt his feelings more than somewhat at the time. He noted Kurt's baffled face and explained that Chord played Sam.
"So basically, my love life is based on this Ryan guy playing the audience like a musical instrument?"
"Pretty much. Sucks, doesn't it?"
Kurt nodded vigorously, a look of melancholy spreading across his face. His life was in the hands of a guy who cared more about audience reaction than having happy characters. Well, I suppose that's how it should be. Look at Edward Scissorhands, Good Morning Vietnam, the Posner guys in History Boys. Those films wouldn't have been half so good if the characters had been happy.
Suddenly all Chris wanted to do was kiss that look away. To see himself looking so sad, so dejected – he couldn't bear it. He shifted into a kneeling position and leant forward to rest his hand on Kurt's arm.
"You know that anything that happens here, you're in charge of? No-one's writing a script off-camera. It's just you and me."
"I know." A small smile began to creep onto Kurt's face. He also shifted his position and grasped Chris's other arm in his free hand. Neither was sure who pulled who closer, but suddenly their faces were barely three inches apart.
"Can I kiss you, Kurt? I completely understand if you don't want to."
"Please, please do. I need you right now." Kurt tried to put his feelings into words, the feeling that Chris could make all the hurt go away, make him forget about the world from which he came.
And so Chris did.
As his lips met Kurt's, that comfortable feeling of right, of home, spread over him. As Chris released Kurt's arm to caress his neck, Kurt moved his now free hand to Chris's waist, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed together. They both knelt on the bed, hands beginning to explore further and further as they remembered their previous times together.
In a single moment, Kurt took control. It was as thought, in an instant, all the power, all the decision-making, had been given from Chris to Kurt, thought through no outwardly visible gesture. Kurt slowly, firmly, yet still ever-so-gently, pushed Chris down onto the bed, moving himself so that his body covered Chris's.
Chris knew how Kurt felt. He needed to be in control. He needed to feel that there was one part of his life in which he really had a say. As for himself? He was quite happy to just relax and let Kurt do with him as he wished. And that thing that he was doing with his tongue was really rather magical, so he wasn't about to start complaining.
Clothes were gradually removed, piece by piece. Neither boy hurried, content to take their time. Kurt explored Chris's body with his hands and tongue, revelling in having someone so willing to do this for him, to give himself over entirely to Kurt's control.
Finally, they were both down to their underwear, Chris's head thrown back as he tried not to squirm in pleasure. Kurt was straddling his thighs, tongue deftly working its way down from Chris's nipples to the waistband of his boxers, tracing a line past his belly button. He glanced up fingers halting in their ministrations, to check that Chris was happy for this to continue further.
Chris looked up at the sudden pause, gazing down at Kurt with lust-blown eyes, his expression questioning why Kurt had stopped. Reassured, Kurt slipped his fingertips into the waistband and grasped hold tightly, keeping his eyes locked on his lover's the entire time. He pulled them deftly down , and threw the boxers to the other side of the room
Kurt quickly shimmied out of his own boxer-briefs, depositing them over the side of the bed. He placed his hands on Chris's hipbones, holding him in place, and moved his mouth to lap at the tip of Chris's rapidly hardening cock.
Chris tried to just lie there and enjoy it, but his hips had other ideas, repeatedly attempting to thrust up into the warm, wet heat that was Kurt's mouth. Kurt just increased the downwards pressure on Chris's hips and went with it, opening his mouth to allow Chris to thrust shallowly into it.
The knowledge that Chris was feeling this pleasure because of him, because he, Kurt, had chosen to do this… it was wonderful.
There came a point, however, when his own need became too great for him to ignore. Kurt leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled in the cupboard for the lube they'd used before, then cursed as he realised he'd brought it back to his own world that first time they'd been together.
Chris smiled, seeming to find Kurt's annoyance somewhat amusing from his supine position.
"On top of the cabinet," he suggested.
Kurt spotted the non-descript paper bag on top of the small cupboard, and reached inside. There was a brand new pump-lid bottle of lube. A prurient grin spread across Kurt's face as he reached over and squirted some into his hand, rapidly slinking his way back down Chris's body to lube up his entrance. He'd done some research since last time, so he knew more or less what to do.
He started with a single finger, slowly, teasing. Chris couldn't help himself; he tried to push himself down on Kurt's finger, trying to get him to reach that spot deep inside… Kurt added a second finger, slowing down more as he did so. Kurt slowly moved his fingers, twisting up and in, enjoying watching Chris writhe around, impaled upon his hand, trying to increase the speed of his movements, which were tortuously slow.
Kurt spread his fingers wide inside the older boy, stretching him out. He added more lube with his other hand, making sure that everything was sufficiently slippery that no-one would get hurt. As he moved to add a third finger, Chris's arm reached down blindly, grabbing at his shoulder to get his attention.
"Do it now." Chris's words sounded almost strangled as he tried to form a coherent sentence. "I want to feel it… I want to feel you."
Kurt couldn't say no to a proposition like that. He moved himself up, bracing his arms on either side of Chris's chest, positioning his cock so that he could slide in.
Kurt entered Chris's body slowly, tenderly. He wanted to feel close, safe. He wanted to make love with the beautiful man beneath him. He didn't want the harsh, cruel advances of an overweight jock; he wanted the warm, comforting intimacy of two men in love. What he and Chris had might not yet be love, but it was more than he'd hoped for, more than he'd thought he'd get in his lonely life.
Chris felt the hot, slow drag of Kurt's cock inside him. He felt the way the boy was panting above him, his every breath resonating through his body and into Chris's.
"Kurt…" The single syllable escaped his mouth in a long breath.
As Kurt filled him to the hilt, his balls pressing against his backside, Chris had never felt more wanted, more needed. More loved.
Kurt transferred his weight onto his left arm so that he could stroke his right hand down Chris's jawline. He gazed into the matching glasz eyes and saw the depth of trust and affection within them. It almost frightened him, the overwhelming feeling of being so close to another person, but instead a thrill of joy rushed through him. He brought his lips down to meet Chris's as he carefully started to withdraw, only to slide back inside as Chris's muscles pulled tight around him, not wanting to let him pull out even to thrust back in.
Chris's hips moved slightly, altering the angle at which Kurt was buried deep inside him. Kurt pulled back, barely an inch, and then thrust himself steadily back inside with a long, smooth motion.
Chris groaned in response, but the noise was swallowed into Kurt's mouth as he kissed the man beneath him. Kurt repeated the motion, and this time a gasp was elicited from the older man, seeming to suck all of the air from Kurt's lungs. He had clearly hit his prostate.
Kurt slid out and in, gradually building up a slow and steady rhythm. Neither of them wanted to go any faster, simply taking pleasure from what was happening between the two of them, blissfully happy in each other's arms.
Chris's hands gradually felt their way up Kurt's chest to roll his nipples between his fingertips as they continued to kiss. This time it was Kurt's turn to groan into his partner's mouth.
Chris could feel Kurt's thrusts grow more and more erratic, and his breathing grow more and more laboured.
"I love you." The quiet words slipped past Kurt's gasping lips as pleasure overtook him and his climax reached him.
"Love you too." Chris's words were barely audible as he felt the warm wetness of Kurt's come fill him up. Kurt slipped out and fell back on the pillows on Chris's left hand side, exhausted.
Chris reached down to jerk himself with his left hand, knowing that he was only a few strokes away from coming himself. He heard Kurt's whisper to him: "Come on me. I want to be yours."
And no-one else's. The words hovered, unsaid, between them.
Chris rolled over on his side, hand still working his cock. He rested his right hand on Kurt's curved behind as he felt the first waves of orgasm wash through him. He came over Kurt's stomach, and a happier smile had never been seen on Kurt's face than there was in that moment.
Both of them reached out, holding the other close as their heavy breathing slowly settled. They didn't care about the mess, the dampness or the stickiness. In that moment, they needed only each other to make the world right again.
The next day, Kurt stood in the hallway of McKinley High. He gazed at the word pasted up in his locker. "Courage." That was the message Chris had given him. Have the courage to carry on when your life seems to be falling apart about you.
He looked up at the picture of Blaine above it. He knew that he should be falling for Blaine right around now, but he couldn't. Not now he knew Chris. Chris supported him without patronising him. Chris listened to him. Chris truly cared about him. And sex with Chris was amazing. They knew each other's bodies so intimately because they lived in each other's bodies twenty-four seven.
That was something Blaine could never offer him. But Blaine was real, he was solid, he was there in the real world, at the other end of a phone line, whenever Kurt wanted to talk to him. And perhaps he would just have to make do.
His train of thought was broken as Karofsky appeared yet again to shove him into a locker. This was all getting too much. I don't think I can take this much longer. He fell down in a heap at the bottom of the locker. A passing blonde girl looked at him, and a slightly disgusted look appeared on her face as she glanced after Karofsky. The expression changed to one of 'oh God, just keep walking, don't get involved' as she looked at Kurt. Kurt didn't even have the energy to sarcastically apologise to her for allowing himself to be treated so violently in her presence. McKinley was a losing battlefield and he knew it.
Six Months Later
Kurt rolled over in his bed at Dalton Academy and looked at the picture of himself and Blaine. They were laughing and smiling at the camera, and Blaine had his arm around Kurt's back.
Kurt knew that Blaine was a good guy, and that he understood, to some extent, what Kurt's life had been like before he came to Dalton. But there would never be a guy as perfect as the one whom he hadn't seen in six long months. Whom he was sure now he would never see again. The guy who had been there for him when it felt like no-one else was.
Kurt didn't care if it meant he was completely narcissistic – no-one in real life could ever measure up to the young actor with the nervous smile and the unassuming manner. The young actor who had stolen thousands of hearts the world over. Kurt alone had the satisfaction of knowing that he had stolen Christopher Colfer's heart right back.
THE END
They say that "I was bored so…" is a sentence that never ends well. I'll leave you to decide whether "…. so I wrote a tragic love story between a fictional character and the actor who plays him" is a good or bad ending to that sentence.